Glass Wings
by twent47blue
Summary: His life when he was a boy, what other hidden secrets and past he had kept inside of himself, and what memories that the rain brings to him, especially when a fan gave him a gift that triggered him to have a flash back of a memory he want to forget.


_He is my wings. In this place where I got no escape, he is my wings so I can fly out and remove myself from this horrible place. My angel looks like an ordinary boy. He goes by the name of Sam. That's all I know, and only me can see these wings he has, and yes, he only shows them to me. Because he said I was special._

Jethro never thought that a grown boy would pay him mind. He's a kid, so he highly doubt that a teenager like Sam would have interest with someone scrawny and a midget like him. After all, what are they going to talk about? What are they going to play together? He doubt that someone like this older boy would be interested with playing with brats like him. But he was there. When Jethro managed to bravely sneaked out of the hole in the fence of his backyard, he saw him first, the older boy was sitting by one of the benches and making paper airplanes with the kids in the park, and they were all over him. Jethro just watched them, sitting by himself, his hand in his pocket and touching the toy car. He was afraid to bring it out because the other kids might take it from him, its his precious toy. Actually, it's his only toy. Most of the toys his parents got him are from the 99 cents store and most of the time made of plastic and not much fun to play with. He's not allowed to go out or go to the park like other kids. His parents keep telling him they don't have time for him, so he had to be a good little boy. They would scream at each other or throw things at each like it is a contest, who yells the loudest or hits someone with a plate or a vase or whatever it is they throw at each other. He had tried to stop them, but then it's like an unspoken conspiracy they would both turn to him and shout shut up and go to your room.

He wondered if things can be simple like walking in and out places that all you leave are foot prints and nothing else. That he can detach himself like when he remove his coat or take off his shoes, and he leave his heart at the door, too. Maybe life can be easier for humans then.

Like when you open up your chest like there is a compartment there, and like an old man with a ticker, you reach out for your beating heart and take it out, leave it at the check in counter and get it back later when you are ready to leave.

But life and love is not as easy as that. You can't just leave foot prints or remnants of yourself behind when you leave a life, or when you break off with someone. Words hang in the air, like a stink that you can't get rid off. Bruises remained visible for days, if only you wish they are like dirty hands all you need to do is soap them and wash them away. The pain in your chest would be constantly be there for awhile, days, weeks, months and even years. There is no getting around to it, it's like a malignant tumor, your days are numbered and you got no more options left, operate, you die. Most of the time it felt like someone struck you with a sharp object and you can't pull it out less you want to bleed to death, so you go on with your life with that thing lodge in your body like a new addition or a grotesque fashion accessory that you newly acquired.

Things can't be simple, it has to be complicated and hard, because something like love is not a walk in the park or free ride at the carnival, it's the biggest and important exam you have to prepare yourself for. And once you take it and plunge into it there is no turning back. It's either hit or miss no in between. No halfway or its not love at all, it has no return or exchange policy. You get what you paid for, it's really mostly up to you, if you use it wisely, take care of it, nurture it, it would be rewarding. But, like the rules stated, it would depend on you. If it fails you got no one else to blame but yourself. You are the master of your fate, you chose your path, and no one did that for you. So whatever you do with this love is your undoing.

He was so absorbed with touching his toy in his pocket he didn't realize that all the kids and their nannies and parents left not until he felt a hand on his shoulder and when he looked up, he almost drown into those golden brown eyes and that enigmatic smile of his new angel. Well, he thought he was, not only for his hair was as yellow as the sun, but his face was so handsome. When the sun was slowly gliding down to kiss the horizon, it formed a hazy sort of wings, as the wind blew against his white shirt, Jethro could have sworn he saw the older boy's wings.

"Hey, do you live around here?" the older boy spoke. And Jethro looked up to him with his mouth hanging open.

The older boy chuckled and leaned down and kiss his open mouth. Jethro's eyes grew even rounder and wider.

"I'm sorry, you just look so cute, I couldn't resist." He said, and sat down beside him.

Jethro blushed, and bowed his head, "It-cho kay. I don't mind." He said, he was still touching his toy in his pocket.

"I got something for you. I saw you looking so I thought you might also want one, sorry I have to wait for everyone to leave or else they would want this too. I made this special, because I think you deserve it." The older boy said, and handed him a paper plane.

In Jethro's eyes, it does kind of looked different from the paper planes he hands to the other kids.

"Why?" he asked, almost afraid to touch it for fear he might crumple it, he held it so gently like he was handed something so delicate. "I-I don't have any paper to give you." He added.

"Well," the older boy started, smiling and ruffling his hair, "Maybe because you're so good, you just waited your turn and not like the others who were pushing and demanding I make theirs first." He replied.

"My name is Sam, by the way." He said, and extended his hand.

Jethro looked up and then the hand before he shook it shyly, "Oh, Ummm…I'm J-Jethro." He said, shyly.

Sam chuckled, "Jethro? You got such a manly and strong name for a small tyke like you." The older boy teased. "How about I give you a nick name, hmm…maybe Jet. Sounds cuter and more suitable for you." Sam said, looking at him.

Jethro looked up to Sam in awe. He never have anyone talked to him before, let alone make him a paper plane and now giving him a nick name. It's all so new and so wonderful for the younger boy. "Thank you for the plane and my nick name. I like them both." He said, smiling, then added, "Sam." Letting the boy's name rolled out of his tongue, it sounded and tasted like honey. Then as if he was served with a bolt of electricity he shoot up to his feet. "Oh, I better go, my mom might be looking for me." He said, still a little hesitant to leave.

Sam looked at him and smiled, "Should I walk you home?" he asked.

"It's alright, I'll be fine. I'm a big boy now." Jet said, proudly.

"Alright, you take care, Jet. Hope we'll see each other again, maybe next time I'll make you a paper crane." He said, smiling.

"You will? I can come back tomorrow, same time." Jet said, couldn't believe that Sam, his new friend is going to make him more paper toys.

Sam chuckled. "Sure, I'll meet you here tomorrow, Jet." He said, and reached out to ruffle his hair, "Be careful going home, okay?" he said.

Reluctantly with a wave, he run towards his house. He was climbing down his desk when his mom started to knock on the door, he hid his paper plane and his toy car in his secret hiding place and run towards his bed, were his neglected plastic toys were.

Every afternoon they would meet, and they became instant friends although a little peculiar since there is a big age gap between them. Jet had always looked at Sam as someone like his guardian angel. And surprisingly, of all coincidences, when his parents went out, and a baby sitter was assigned to look after him, he was so thrilled to discover that it was Sam.

Years passed, Jet could hardly remember all the bad things that happened in his life, like when his parents had one major fight, and almost end up killing each other this time. But it was like a bad cartoon, he just tune it out and changed the channel. All he concentrated on was Sam, like a favorite show, no matter how many re-runs and repeats, it doesn't matter to him, it's Sam, that was the only reason there is.

When he started middle school, he was so excited to find out that Sam's school was nearby and for the first time he was invited to the older boy's house. Sam said it was his birthday, so he should come and meet his friends. He had saved up all weekend making sure he can buy something good for the older boy. His mother doesn't give him much, but he was so happy that when he asked his dad if he can have something extra, he gave him a fifty, so he was so thrilled, he can buy something cool for Sam on his birthday. His dad even went with him to help him buy this model airplane that Sam liked. He was even liking the idea now that his parents are living separately, he gets their attention full time now not like before when all they do is shout and fight with each other.

He was nervous when he met Sam at the entrance of his school, he was given permission to go since it is Sam. His parents know him and trusted him, he was even allowed to sleep over if Sam invited him but he can call up his dad since he is staying with him for the weekend.

He thought at first, things would get cancelled since it was raining a little. But he was praying all day, he was even distracted in class. So if he could run to him and jump in his arms, he would have done so when he saw his angel waiting for him at the gate of his school.

"Sam! It's so good to see you, happy birthday!" he said, excitedly his face was a little flushed, he ran all the way from the classroom to the gate.

Sam chuckled as he adjusted his rain gear and got an umbrella for Jet. "Hey, don't run in the rain, you're going to catch a cold." He said, hug the other boy to him as he opened the umbrella.

Jet couldn't contain himself he was so happy, he was so close to Sam, he could smell his after shave. He is so grown up. He wondered if the older boy got a girlfriend. He's so handsome so he was sure that he did. But it didn't matter to Jet just as long as Sam treat him the same and nothing changes between them, he would always have a secret crush on him.

He was a little overwhelmed when they got to the house, there are so many people in his house, and all them are either smoking and drinking, and he wrinkled his nose at that strange smell that was hanging in the air.

When Sam asked him to come with him in his room to get something, that is when he shyly got his gift from his backpack.

"Ummm…Sam. I hope you like this. My dad helped me pick it up, I know this is one of those things you like, I saw you looking at it before when we went to the mall." He said, and handed him the box.

Sam looked up and smiled, "Oh, thank you, Jet. You shouldn't have. You're just a kid, you couldn't afford gifts anyway, I understand." The older boy said.

That kind of hurt Jet a little, it kept echoing in his head. _You're just a kid. You're just a kid. _

But before he can say anything, there were four boys who burst in the room and grabbed his gift from Sam's hand.

"Hey, what's this? A gift from your boyfriend?" one of them teased.

"Hey!" Jet protested about to grab for the gift back. But he was a little confuse that  
Sam had a different smirk on his face, and he didn't even get angry, as one of them even grab him.

"Is this him?" one of them asked.

Jet was starting to get nervous and frightened when the mood in the room changed, and one of them took out a video camera and started filming everything. He whirled towards Sam, but it was like that Sam is a whole new different person, a stranger. And he wasn't even looking at Jethro.

"Where's my money?" Sam asked, and held a palm up, and those four boys that burst in the room started handing him money.

"Don't leave any visible marks, and give him something first, he's a virgin." Sam said, as he pocketed the money, it was then that Sam looked at him, but his face didn't change and this time it was loathe and disgust. The gift he had painstakingly picked and wrapped were forgotten, tossed to the floor and one of them even stepped on it.

He started to cry, "S-Sam, what's going on? Your gift, it's ruined." He said, his voice all choked up.

Sam reached out and mussed his hair, "Don't worry, you're giving me much more fun thing than a stupid gift, boy. And don't go crying to your dad about this, I know something about you. If you tell your parents about this, I will deny it." He said, and straightened up, "Just enjoy it, who knows next time, we'll do it." He said, and started to laugh.

After the party when his dad picked him up, he was so quiet, and his eyes were all red. He was clutching the jacket that Sam gave him, but it looked that if he could toss it away he wouldn't want to use it, or even smell Sam's after shave on the jacket. But his pants was a little bloodied, so he had to use the jacket to cover it up.

"What's the matter? Didn't you enjoy the party? What did Sam said about your gift? Did he like it?" his dad asked.

It took him sometime to reply to his dad. "I-It was okay, I had a stomach ache so I got sick and threw up. Sam liked his gift very much, thanks, dad." He said, forcing himself to smile, remembering that the box still remained unopened and had been trampled again and again by those boys who were taking turns at him and tossing him around between them.

His throat hurt a little from all his crying and screaming, it hurts so much, and he wished he would die. But his cries where drowned out by the loud music happening outside. When they were done and satisfied, he thought it would never end until Sam's face loomed in front of him and helped him up, and even washed him up in the bathroom, but he never did once say anything to him or look at him ever again.

When Jet's dad was reassigned to another state, Jet begged and pleaded to go with him, Sam dropped by at the house after a month after his birthday, it was the first time they are going to see each other after that unforgettable incident. He's got a gift for Jet, he said it was a going away present. He acted like he used to act before like the first time they met. It was only now that he realized that it was all an act. He wondered how many times that Sam did this, and to how many kids he had charmed and manipulated only to ruin them in the end.

Sam was rambling on and on like nothing happened. He wasn't listening he was busy packing his stuff. When Sam insisted that he opened his gift, he stopped and not even looking at him, he opened the box, and stopped for a moment to look at the gift Sam gave him. It was a glass angel, it was beautiful. He was staring at it for a long time, until he heard Sam saying sorry, that he and his buddies were just playing with him, and that they didn't mean any harm, and then Sam confessed that he liked him too, and he was asking for Jet for his address so he can he visit him and maybe they can go see each other over semester breaks. It was then he reached inside the box and got hold of the angel. Sam stopped talking and looked at him, he was asking him something, but he didn't hear it. He smiled at Sam, and said, "Go fuck yourself, asshole." He said, and hurled the angel against the wall and broke it into million pieces.

"Get out of my house, and my life. I don't want to ever see you again, you pervert." He said, and before Sam could react he was pushing him towards the door, it was only then he realized he had gotten taller, and he is almost taller than Sam now, and he noticed a lot of things too. Sam is not really that good looking like he often thought he is. His face got pimples, and his hair is bleached and his true color is starting to show. No, this boy that he had admired is nothing special really. It was all just a fake dream. Like the glass angel, the wings that he saw is just an illusion. It's not real, and breakable.

Jet was in his trailer, looking over the stills that the director asked him to review. It was drizzling outside. He had run all the way from the studio to his trailer, he's got his assignments for the day, some fan mail and gifts wrapped under his jacket as he made a quick dash to his trailer parked outside the allotted space for the staff and stars. He must have drifted somewhere in his head, he realized now what triggered his remembrance of the past he had longed buried. Someone sent him an angel, a glass angel. Almost the same as the one that Sam gave him.

He got up from his chair and stretched he had been going through the stills of the last reel of the film they just finished, his mind started to drift off when he opened a box, a gift from a fan, and saw that angel that triggered something inside of him. He swiped the angel from the desk, and rummaged through drawers until he found what he was looking for. He positioned the angel between his fingers carefully and carefully smashed it with a hammer, it didn't break much, but he broke off the wings, and he was satisfied and threw them in the trash can. It has been a long time he had thought about Sam. He once wondered what that man was doing now, and inwardly wished Sam is into drugs or got into the worse crowd and someone killed him. Just that thought that something bad happening to Sam, his once in a forgotten life angel, it was then his mood started to perk up and he begun humming and smiling.

He knew his life is not as noble or as good as he wished it would have been to prove something to Sam. Even though there is no way in hell he was going to meet up with that man ever again. But for him, life is something you choose them to be, maybe right now this is what he wanted. For now he is doing something he likes. It may not seem aspiring or rewarding to some. For Jet it is something that he thought he needed to do. Maybe he did have a troubled past or a troubled experience but that didn't make it a bad life, or him a bad person.

Life is like a confused teacher, first she gives you the test, and then teach the lesson. For Jet, this is one of the lessons in life he will never ever forget.


End file.
